Hush
by dream-catcher00
Summary: Inspired by The Crow, this story follows the revenge path of a young woman imprisoned for a crime she didn't commit for an act she should have done. Now she is free and out to taste the sweet blood of the five men that caused her ruin. R&R please!
1. First Blood

The dealer crouched down on the ground, quivering. A packet of freshly cut dope lay by his knee. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck were the barrel of a gun was pressed firmly onto the pale skin.

"My…how quickly the wicked cower when faced with death." The leather clad fingers flexed over the handle and a smile curved across the thin lips.

"So humble when anticipating a bullet in the head."

The man began to whimper as a hand reached to pick up the wrapped powder, the pressure increasing on the gun, pushing it further into his neck. The hand tossed the packet into the air and caught it, feeling the powder shift in the cellophane wrapping. Dark eyes glinted in the orange glow of a street lamp.

"Three years and you're still shelling out this shit?"

"Best on the streets," the dealer stammered "Have it, take it!"

The gun pushed down sharply and he stuck out his palms out onto the ground to keep his body stable.

"You know, and call me forgetful if you must," the smooth voice said "but I don't seem to remember telling you to talk."

The hand through the packet up again and caught it. A small lable fixed it together and three initials had been written on it in black ball point pen. _LIT._

"Still working for that bastard? Sell the same junk to him?"

"LSD, extacy. You name it, I got it. You can take it all!"

The lips curved into a smile and the gun rose up and came down hard on the back of his head. He fall to the floor, groaning slightly.

"When we're finished," the soft voice whispered, placing the rubber heel of a leather boot firmly into the small of his back, holding the dealer to the ground.

"You can try and educate yourself a little better and find out what a rhetorical question is."

"So..so you're not going to kill me?"

The hand threw the dope into the air, the other raised the gun and shot at it. The powder dredged around them, falling like snow on the tight shoulder pads of a black leather jacket.

"Haven't decided… aren't there schools in Hell?"

The body shook beneath her boot and she blew some stray hair off her face, out of her eyes.

"Please…there's things I gotta-"

She fired the gun into the air and then brought it down to rest, firmly on the back of his head.

"Now, I had two shots only for you," she raised two fingers and looked at them thoughtfully. "And neither of them have killed you yet, have they?" She shook her head, answering her own question. "No, I haven't…and I don't want to waste anymore on shit like you…bigger vermin to kill."

"Shit… you gonna treat them all like this?"

"Worse…" she murmered "much worse." She lifted her boot from his back and raised the gun from his head. "Up." He stood then ran a hand beneath his nose, sniffing hard.

"Oh…and since you're still alive," she turned him to face her "you can deliver a message for me." She thrust her fist into his stomach and brought her knee up into his groin. He collapsed to the floor, his breath coming out in sharp spurts. "Tell them that revenge comes in my form… and tonight it comes for them."

"Jesus- you bitch!" She choked.

She nodded and turned, walking away slowly.

"I know…. but I'm your death sentence."

The dealer glanced up at her, noticing she had stopped. "Care to argue? This gun still hold bullets."

"But you said you weren't-"

She pulled out the gun from her inside pocket and fished out a single bullet, turning it between her finger and thumb. "Ah! I said I didn't want to." She opened the gun and spun it around her finger with the trigger. She inserted the bullet and flicked it shut. "It doesn't mean I won't"

She pointed the gun at him and he stood up sharply, shaking violently.

"Remember the message." She turned and carried on walking. The dealer lent against the wall, he glanced in the direction she had vanished.

"Fuck that."

"Wrong answer."

The gun fired.


	2. Old friends, dead enemies

"She's only got one night," a voice said from the other side of the bar.

Flex shrugged and turned the glass filled with amber liquid on the bar top. A strand of braided hair fell in front of his eye and he picked another peanut from the wooden bowl. He threw it in the air and opened his mouth to catch it.

"Fuck." It fell onto the floor and split in two.

"Twenty fourth time you've done that." A dirty, white cloth flew over the beer tap. "That floor is dirty enough to eat off."

"Hey! Fuck you, I'm worried ok!"

A young, black woman lent against the bar and handed him a dustpan and brush. "Then occupy yourself and clean up your shit." She pointed a finger at the scattered pile of peanuts on the floor. He glanced up at her and grinned.

"Sorry, Kia, gotta finish my drink," he said as he shook the glass in front of her face. She grinned back, grabbed the glass from him and downed it in one swift gulp.

"You're finished."

He pulled out a knife from his boot and began to pick his nails and she picked up the cloth from the beer tap and threw it at him.

"Clean it up!" Flex slammed the knife into the bar top. "Flex! Bastard! I'll get into sit for that!"

"Aww, you'll actually miss working in this hole?" He stroked the side of the empty glass. "You're swimming in a bucket of piss, Kia, that's you're ticket out."

"There is not out," she muttered and grabbed the glass from his hand and dropped it into the sink. "This is it for me." She looked around. "A whore turned bar-maid." She sat down on the shelf behind the bar and turned her gaze to the floor pulling her top up to cover her chest. "This is about as far as I will go in this world."

At these words, Flex stood then crouched onto the floor and began sweeping the peanuts into the dustpan.

"Damn." Kia looked at him. "Damn, damn damn…"

"What?"

"This is as far as you go? Shame."

"Huh?"

"Well, there's this really good Chinese restaurant up town that I wanted to take you to." She picked up the cloth and threw it at him again. "Sorry I mentioned it," he laughed.

The front door slammed and Flex stood up straight sharply. The leather coat flew over the back of a chair. "One down Flex." Natasha rested the gun on the bar beside the knife still jammed firmly into the wood. She raised an eyebrow and glanced at Kia who smiled.

"He was showing off."

"Again?" Natasha pulled the knife out of the bar top and laid it down.

"Which one was it?" Flex knelt down again and continued to sweep.

"The dealer." He furrowed his brow and stood up, tipping the peanut half's into an ashtray.

"Could have been any dealer, Tash. Streets are full of them." She reached over the bar for a glass and filled it with Coke from the tap.

"Rum?" Kia lifted a bottle of white spirit. Natasha's head shook as she raised the glass to her lips and sighed as the liquid slipped down her throat, quenching her thirst.

"You could have just shot some poor bastard who didn't do shit." Flex sat down on the stool beside her and picked up her gun. She glanced at him.

"Bastard…yes. Poor, no." She shook her head. "Those scum don't deserve pity, prick shouldn't have been born if he was meant to sell that shit."

"So it wasn't him?"

"It was."

"How d'you know?"

"Don't know, being pumped full of heroin by that dick might have helped to jog my memory!" She slammed her fist down.

"I thought you wouldn't remember… it was a lot of heroin…"

"I wish I didn't…and…that's why I have to kill you." Flex looked up.

"What?"

"That five dollars you owed me," she said holding out a hand "Pay up!"

"Jesus, Tash, I thought you were…God! Don't do that!" He pressed a ten-dollar bill into her palm.

"Only five, Flex."

"Just to pay you off, incase I forget again."


	3. Remember, remember

"**Natasha Bryce ages 17 was found yesterday morning in her home in the middle city amongst the mutilated bodies of her family."**

"Found with the gun."

"Totally untouched? She did it."

"**Although pleading 'Not Guilty' and with no particular motive she was tried for multiple murder."**

"She tried to over dose afterwards."

"Heroin?"

"Oh yeah!"

"**After being held for three years, the court permitted the temporary release of the suspected murderer, Natasha Bryce..."**

"I can't believe she did it."

"That's because she didn't..."

"Who did?"

"I don't know."

"Flex?"

"Someone...else."


	4. End The Rich Mans Word

A soft drizzle had just began to fall on the tarmac as Flex and Natasha stepped from the bar in the back street alley.

"How does it feel to be out?" Flex inclined his head towards her.

"Like jumping from one shit hole to another," muttered Natasha, sliding her fingers into her gloves. "This place just needs a little airing out then it'll be fine and fresh for me."

Flex nodded and looked up to the sky feeling the falling water on his face and taking a deep breath of the autumn, City air. "I fucking hate this rain."

"I can't say the same," Natasha rubbed the droplets on her fingers together "I sort of missed it."

They parted then, as Flex trundled to his flat. Natasha glanced to her left and to her right and began to think to herself about the old gang. It was October. It was devils night. They had long grown out of burning buildings to the ground. Her ears pricked up as, just ahead, she heard two men bickering in a back street just off the road directly in front of her. She recognised both voices and started a steady, slow walk to the opening.

There was a flickering lamp light just ahead of her where the two of them stood with their heads bent low over their hands. There was a subtle rustling of money in the hands of the shorter one as the taller one kept glancing over his shoulder, keeping an eye out. Her hands firmly pressed down on her sides and she felt the pistols press against her chest, she let her arms slide down and she flexed her fingers. She drew in a deep breath through her nose and let it out through her mouth and the condensation trailed into the air.

The taller and broader man looked up to see the cloud of breath reflecting in the light. "What the fuck do you want?" He squinted into the darkness. The smaller man lifted his head and quickly spun round. She began to slowly step forward and stopped just before the flickering lamp light struck her face.

"You think you're a funny guy?" The shorter man thrust the money into his back pocket and pulled a silver knife from his belt. "Let's see if I can draw a smile with this." He turned the sharp object between his fingers and smirked.

"Now now," Natasha whispered "Wouldn't want to do that."

"Hmm," grunted the taller man "A chick, we could make her smile another way."

"You tried that the first time and it didn't work," she flexed her fingers again in the darkness, resisting the urge to shoot them straight away.

"Must have, you came back, now get down on your knees." The broader man was too quick for her and grabbed her leather glad arm and dragged her into the lamplight and onto her knees. He held her firmly with her arms behind her back and grasped her, painfully, by the hair, holding her face up to the other who's hand held the silver knife firmly at her throat.

"Hello, Nicholas," Natasha smirked at his shocked face. He blinked and stepped back and she felt the grip on her hair loosen. "I'm hurt that I wasn't the only one." He remained with a look of resentment and astonishment on his face, his fingers tightening around the knife.

"What the fuck are you doing out?" The broad shouldered man bent over her and she could smell his foul, smoke ridden breath fill her nostrils.

"Making sure I am the last," she whispered with her head turned to face his. She was swift in her next move although it was disgusting. She sunk her teeth firmly into his earlobe until she could feel the blood trickling down her chin and feel the warm liquid on her chin. Her own ears were deafened by his hysterical screaming and he released her arms trying to prise her jaw open.

It was then that she reached into her left-inside pocket and pulled out her pistol and shot Nicholas squarely in the groin. She promptly released her grip on the taller mans ear as Nicholas fell to the ground.

His screaming did not modify in pitch, he took a single glance at the body of his fellow gang member while cradling his ear and his eyes widened and his screams became even more hysterical.

He stood and began to sprint up the side street to the road, wailing in horror and incredible pain. She waited until he was at the edge of the darkness between where she stood and the main road and aimed a shot at his head and fired. His body jerked and he fell to the ground and she smiled, weakly with a small amount of satisfaction.

Flex turned the corner and she took a deep breath and turned around to the crippled animal at her feet.


End file.
